


Burnt Ties

by watersuki



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Marriage Proposal, Rejection, Secret Relationship, Unhappy Ending, damn here we go, i'm sorry y'all, this is really sad but I'm proud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27072208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watersuki/pseuds/watersuki
Summary: Thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoyed the angst. If you did please leave kudos! Comments are always appreciated <3
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	Burnt Ties

They are laying in bed when it happens. 

It’s stupid and dangerous but if Suki sees them sneaking into his chamber late at night she doesn’t mention it. Zuko had dismissed all of his guards that evening after all. She wonders if they know… Of course they do. They haven’t been careful enough, Katara is well aware. She doesn’t think Zuko minds either, but the thought lingers. 

It’s been four months. Four months of travelling between the Earth Kingdom, what would be the new Republic City, and the Fire Nation where they currently are. Four months of stolen kisses and secret encounters late at night. Four months of sneaking around and whispering words of affection, hoping to find a way to stop time from running. It’s been four months since the first love confession and the many that followed. The first spoken one that fell off his lips like the same honey that coloured his eyes, those she felt she could drown in. 

But it had been years. Years of letters, Zuko had never been one to talk much but it seemed like his letters were little windows to his mind. Letters with political advice and confessions. They would tell each other about their lives and how things were going. Because many things happen in six years, many things change, but the new Fire Lord of the Fire Nation and the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe never stop writing each other letters. 

If there are love confessions intertwined with the stories and inquiries, they don’t mention it. There is no need to mention it, it’s just as clear as the water she is a master of. 

There aren’t many words left to speak when you jump in front of a lightning for someone. Neither are there when you’ve felt the blood inside someone’s body, pumping through their heart, bringing them back to life. 

They are laying in bed and he is running his fingers through her hair. 

“I told you, you mess up the curls…” She groans as the sunlight that seeped through the window hits her eyes. Waking up had never been her favourite thing, he always seemed to be up before her. 

“I’m being careful!” He bites back but there is no spite in his tone, just pure adoration at the sight of the waterbender’s exposed skin against the red silk of his sheets. “Good morning.”

Katara turns around to face him and a small smile grows on her face as she leans forward to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “Good morning…” Her eyes are barely open but that only earns her a chuckle from him. 

“You’re horrible at mornings.” The firebender chuckles as his hands travel softly up and down her arm before reaching forward to pull her closer to his chest. He wonders if she can hear his heart beating. 

Katara can’t help but argue even though he lets him pull her closer. There are only a few moments in the day they get to share inside the little bubble they built, the one where they don’t speak about their worries for they don’t exist. There are no different nations, no complicated politics or conflicting feelings. It’s him and her, and nothing else but them. And they don’t speak about it, probably out of fear, but it’s okay because they have each other.

“It’s because this place is so hot, all of the time. How do you even work in the summer?” She complains even though he is holding her to his chest, the warmth of their bare skin against one another directly contradicting her. But pulling away is the last thing that crosses her mind. 

“Well it’s called the Fire Nation for a reason.” Zuko chuckles as he feels her fingers reach up to brush the long strands of black hair off of his face. She softly caresses the scarred skin at his left temple and watches as he closes his eyes and leans into her healing touch. 

When he opens them back, Katara is looking into his eyes and she doesn’t want to look away. He studies her with a certain tenderness that makes her doubt she had ever felt appreciated before, anyone other than him just doesn’t compare. Zuko isn’t much for words but he can call her beautiful with a single look. 

Because Katara is strong and smart, she’s powerful and compassionate and empathetic, but she never allows herself to feel beautiful. Not because she doesn’t feel so but because the idea of being perceived as pretty puts a whole another meaning to her place in the world. Because she is a woman and she is well aware of the cruelty of men, of the entitlement they wear around like a crown. She wants someone that values her for who she is and she knows he does. So she allows herself to feel beautiful whenever he looks at her. 

“Too hot, I need a bath…” She chuckles, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before slowly slipping off the bed and putting on his robe. Despite the fabric on her skin and her various complaints, she misses the warmth of his body as he held her. 

Katara starts gathering all of the things she needs for her bath when she realizes her comb is missing. Her eyes scan over the various surfaces of the room before they land on the dresser where she has seen Zuko store some stuff in the past. She walks over to it and opens the top drawer searching for the whale bone comb her grandmother had made her, the one she knew she left in his room the last time she stayed the night. 

“Hey, do you know where my comb–” She cuts her question halfway through before she can finish when something catches her eye. The moment Katara sees it she knows exactly what it is and her whole body freezes. 

She knows what a betrothal necklace looks like, she wears her mother’s proudly on her neck every single day of her life. 

Before she knows she’s reaching for it and feeling its weight burn into her palms at the realization. 

“Katara what are–” 

He cuts himself off as well, he can too see the unfinished pendant in her hand and the ribbon that falls over the edge of her fingers. Zuko can’t help but sigh. 

“Shit, I’m–” Katara can hear the hesitation in his voice and her blood seems to freeze. The rustling of the sheets as he stands up and puts on a robe of his own haunts every second that passes until he speaks again. “It’s not ready yet, you weren’t supposed to see that…” There is a certain chuckle to his voice as he approaches her gently taking the unfinished necklace from her hands. His touch seems to burn and she finally gains the strength to turn around and meet his eye. 

Their expressions are in direct opposition to each other. Zuko is blushing, Katara is terrified, but they certainly share the anxiousness. 

“This is– It’s a betrothal necklace.” She whispers searching his eyes desperately for any sort of rebuttal, that this is not happening and he is not planning to propose to her.

She finds a gentle smile and eyes full of anxiousness. Her heart breaks, and then she’s mad. 

Katara watches as Zuko’s smile falters and feels his body go stiff. There is a new hint of disappointment in his eyes but soon pain and frustration are the only things he projects. “You don’t want to get married?” He asks and the air starts to get thick.

Katara’s body feels on fire but it isn’t the fire that fills her when she feels his touch, when he lays his lips upon her skin and stares into her eyes like she’s the only woman he has ever let into his heart. This fire hurts, it leaves blisters behind and she wonders if they would scar after they heal. 

“We can’t get married, Zuko.” 

Her voice is filled with dread and fear, and a hit of anger leaves an aftertaste that lingers after the words have come out. It’s bitter and her chest tightens. 

“Of course we can get married.” He speaks after what seems like an eternity, there is a certain hint of desperation that clouds his words. He reaches for her hand but she pulls it away as soon as she feels the touch of his skin.

“Katara, I love you. I know–” Despite being the monarch of a nation he is as eloquent as the peasant kind his nobles claim she belongs to. “I know I’m not good at these things but– Agni, Katara, I want you in my life. I want to wake up next to you every morning and hold you to sleep every night. I want you to stay by my side.”

She sees past his words, his passion. She knows what it means to marry Zuko and he’s either stupid or avoiding the truth. Katara can’t figure out which is worse. 

“You can’t possibly ask me to do that.” She speaks and her words are cold. “You want me to give up my life, my culture, turn my back on my people, for you.” Katara is well aware of the cruelty in her voice but she knows how this conversation ends. She has always known how this conversation goes, and coldness seems better than the warmth he is offering. 

Katara is well acquainted with the cold. She knows how to navigate through the snow and ice. She knows how to keep herself safe, how to protect herself. She knows all of the secrets and tricks, and she vowed to guard the heart that beats soundly in her chest, she keeps it in line, unbreakable. 

Zuko knows of her coldness. It’s faint and forgotten under the new memories of warmth that envelop them. The way she smiles when he holds her, or his touch lingers after they pull away. They always pull away, it would be impossible to remain tangled in each other’s embrace forever. 

Katara knows this, Zuko doesn’t seem to follow along.

“We could visit your home whenever you wish. If you miss your family, during the holidays, that isn’t even a question, Katara.” He doesn’t budge and she wants to scream. He’s not looking at the big picture and she starts to realize she’s the one who has to break his heart. 

The thought makes her angry. She doesn’t want to break his heart but he’s making her and it feels rather ironic. She wonders why he couldn’t have just read the room, but then again she doesn’t think Zuko has ever done that in his life. He isn’t one to understand the unspoken, the implicit, what lies beneath his actions. He just does because he feels. If he were to try and understand what she does his own rampant thoughts would consume him before he could start to process them. 

She needs to take a step closer to him this time. 

“Do you know what would happen if the Fire Lord married the daughter of the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe?” She asks, hoping he can’t tell how much she’s struggling to hold back her tears. She doesn’t cry. She absolutely can’t cry. “Have you forgotten all the people who tried to murder you for ending the war? The council you have to fight every single time you want to change anything? How exhausted it makes you? Imagine we do get married and my family doesn’t disown me and your council agrees which they won’t. You need an heir. So we have a child.” 

She can feel her nails digging into her own palms as frustration takes over her body. 

“What are you going to do, Zuko? What will you do if the heir to the throne of the Fire Nation is born a waterbender?” 

He raises his voice and Katara knows she has earned it. She has prodded something deep within him and the action of voicing her implications tore at her heart despite knowing she didn’t mean it that way. 

“I would never hurt my child.” 

Zuko’s voice is as cold as Katara’s. He is loud enough for the sound to seep through the walls and echo across the hallways of the palace, a place where whispers drown in seconds. He stares right into her eyes and those blisters of hers begin to itch. She has struck where it hurt him the most and something behind his eyes shifts. The way he looks at her changes and all she can see is pain and anger. 

It reminds her of a Zuko she had vowed to forget. 

“I know you wouldn’t…” She whispers, breaking before she forces herself to remain still. She can’t allow herself to slip until the point has come across. Katara speaks knowingly, because she knows exactly how their story ends. “But they would. They would hurt them like they hurt you and what would happen to me? Have you stopped to wonder what it means for me?” 

Zuko isn’t looking at her anymore, she wonders if he’s disgusted by her after what she said. But she continues, because she needs to make sure he understands, and she knows the only way is to close every single door she had opened in the past. She needs to crush any hope he could possibly muster now or ever. 

“I can’t marry the head of the country that slaughtered and destroyed my tribe. I can’t become the Fire Lady and pledge to protect the honor of a nation that has stripped me of my own mother.” If Katara is holding back tears she doesn’t let herself put thought into it. He has seen her cry enough times to know when she’s about to break down, but again, she can’t afford to give him hope. 

Instead of looking at the pain written on his face her eyes drift over to the necklace clutched tight in a fist that seems like it could break it anytime soon. Somehow the knowledge that whalebone can survive decades intact feels like a punch to the gut. 

“If I marry you I have to assume a political position I am not qualified for. I become the mother of your children, I am responsible for the future of your people. I don’t want to raise my children in a palace being taken care of their every need. I don’t want them to grow adverse to the cold, I don’t want to teach them to be monarchs, I don’t want them under pressure or suffering. I don’t want to raise my children in a place where I don’t belong. I don’t want to live in this palace or call it a home. I want to be free and I want freedom for my children.” 

She can’t help but picture what it would be like in a different world, one where Zuko and her are just ordinary people who fell in love freely and openly for everyone to see. She wonders what it would be like to live in a village near the sea, somewhere alone, maybe close to a beach. She wonders what it would be like to get married at sunset and enjoy their first night as a married couple in each other’s arms. She wonders if they could live in a small house with a lot of books to read and plants to take care of. One where they can have a bed they share every night and wake up in, holding each other every morning. She wonders if he would let her teach him how to cook, they could even make dinner together every night. She wonders if they could have their families over, she imagines everyone sitting at a table together and Sokka attempting to make Kiyi laugh by playing with the food they served. 

Katara dreams of a place where they could share a normal life together, though she’s been through so much she doesn’t know what constitutes normal anymore. 

In this dream she doesn’t know if they are both water tribesmen, or fire nation citizens, or just people. People together, whose love stories don’t involve hurt and suffering, or epic tales of an impossible union made reality. Katara has begun to ache for the mundane, for the reality of where she belongs. Not important or warriors, people who didn’t stop a war or are raising new nations. 

Now she doesn’t know what her future looks like, if she could ever get where she wishes to be, but she knows it could never be with the man that threw himself in front of a lightning to save her life. Because that man is Zuko, and the burns he bears upon her leave scars. 

“Marrying you is marrying the Fire Nation. And I don’t love you more than I love who I am and where I come from.” 

The moment those last words leave her mouth she watches as the ribbon of the necklace that falls from the ends of Zuko’s fist catches on fire. 

It happens quickly but it seems to be enough to consume it all. The smoke left in the room fills her lungs and Katara can’t help but wonder if the charm is still intact or if Zuko's hand is covered in ashes. She doesn’t find out because his fist stays tightly clenched, his knuckles white. 

“You could have just said no.” 

Zuko mouths and his voice seems rougher than usual. He doesn’t look back at her and Katara knows she has done it. She has finally cut the last string of hope he held in his heart and there is no way of returning to the moment he had run his fingers through her curls and smiled against her skin. 

The last thing she sees of him before she gathers her clothes and heads into the bathroom is the tear that silently falls down his cheek, the same stoic expression that he puts on during council meetings set on his face. 

He isn’t in the room when she gets out, just the unfinished pendant of the necklace, set on top of the dresser, with her grandmother’s comb next to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoyed the angst. If you did please leave kudos! Comments are always appreciated <3


End file.
